


under the neon light

by asiren (meliorismo)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliorismo/pseuds/asiren
Summary: Dick is sick. Jason tries his best.





	under the neon light

**Author's Note:**

> hello. i love these two

“I’m feeling  _ incredibly  _ ill”, Dick announced from his place on the couch. He was a small lump under four blankets, all of them different colors: green, pink with flowers, Superman red and Nightwing blue. The amount of discarded tissues all over the living room was borderline concerning, and the TV seemed to be paused at 7:21 on an episode of Brooklyn 99 since before Jason left the house — to go to his most recent honest day job (aka: bouncer at a new nightclub in the outskirts of Gotham. Smelly place and  _ terrible  _ pay — just the usual. He took it, really, mostly to have an excuse to avoid Bruce’s new group patrols, which was something that he still wasn’t totally convinced that he shouldn’t be blaming Clark Kent about). 

“You told me you were feeling better.” Jason told him, taking out the groceries that he had picked at the small store two blocks down the way of the subway station. It was mostly frozen comfort food and instant soup, stuff that would hopefully make Dick feel a little better. He wasn’t exactly  _ on board  _ with this kind of behavior, of course, but it was what it was, really, and it was too late to go back to the not-in-love business, no matter how much more pleasant it was. 

“I lied.” he said, his voice muffled under all the nesting he had done. “I do it sometimes.”

“Which one was this time? Wishful thinking or deliberate deception?”

“Both.” Dick answered, after careful examination of his feelings and motivations. A bird was still a bird even while chilling on the ground. “It seems to be my default mode.”

“What did you do all day? I’m pretty sure you didn’t just watch Netflix non stop.”

“Why not?” he squeaked, rising up from the pile of blankets looking exhausted and kind of green, which was never a flattering color on anyone, less of all Dick (whose skin’s undertone was very much yellow).

“You couldn’t sit still for twenty minutes to save your own life.”

“It’s not true.” Dick answered, full of exhausted dignity. “You lie so much. Also, I can watch TV walking around the couch. I just couldn’t  _ at this very moment,  _ since I’m not capable of functions related to moving.”

“You can’t be feeling that bad.” 

“Well, believe me, I am. I very much am.”

“I bought you soup.” Jason told him, waving the can. Dick looked appropriately grateful. 

“Is it the onion one?”

“Yes. And there is instant cup noodles too. Chicken.” 

“You’re the best.” he answered, fervently. “I would hug you and kiss you if I could do it without killing you with my germs.” 

“Nice.” 

“I mean, for real, don’t get too close. I’m probably radioactive at this point.” 

“Not disgusting at all.” 

“I already spent two full boxes of paper tissues. Only today!” 

“I’m burning this couch.”

“And I took four baths. You know how my mom always told me that the best way to fix anything is with a bath. The temperature and length change with the symptoms, of course, but the essence is still the same…”

“I’m burning this whole place down. Also, four? You can’t  _ possibly  _ be feeling this bad.” 

“I am, Jay. I very much am.” he sniffed miserably, effectively proving his point. Jason couldn’t determine for certain if the timing had been deliberate. 

“Shouldn’t you call Alfred?” Jason muttered around the plastic of a water bottle. He bought it because he was afraid of the tap water they had in Gotham, ever since that one  _ Gotham Diary  _ explosive piece on the capitalist plot against people’s health and general well being. 

Dick thought that the water was okay but Jason didn’t hear him because the guy had  _ notoriously low _ self preservation instincts. Like. Even for a Robin. 

(Everyone knew that the best on being vaguely well adjusted was Timothy — only him. 

None of the others were even in the same competition to begin with). 

“He would tell Bruce. And then you know what would happen.” 

“The old bat would want to come here and awkwardly walk around the living room as if it was anything but really fucking stupid?” 

“He’s bad with people.” 

“And  _ that’s  _ the understatement of the century.”

“He tries his best.” 

Jason snorted. “No, Richard. He really doesn’t.” 

“Maybe.” Dick conceded. “But he could.” 

“Which is  _ worse.” _

“You always have a lot of opinions.” 

“On Bruce? Tons. I just don’t know”, he started, casual as someone who had said all these things a hundred times, to thousands of different people, “why he keeps getting more children when he doesn’t speak to any of those he already have.” 

“He speaks to Damian.”

“The poor little bastard lives with him. Doesn’t have a choice.” 

“He speaks to  _ me.” _

“Hah!”

“Well, usually.” he added, after a beat. “Sometimes.” 

“You mean never.”

_ “Almost  _ never. There’s difference.”

“There is?” 

“You have to know where to look, I guess. But it’s there.” 

“Dude”, Jason said, looking for more tissues to give him. He was worried that if he didn’t, Dick would start using the towels, and they didn’t have a lot of them. “You have really bad self esteem. And you know whose fault is that?”

“Please don’t say—”

”Bruce!” he added, talking over the pathetic denials. “It’s Bruce’s fault.” 

“Jay…”

“The man ruins stuff, that’s all I’m saying. But forget it, I hate to talk about him.” 

“You have many,  _ many  _ daddy issues, Jason Todd.” Dick said, very solemn from his blanket fort. “But it’s okay, I still like you.” 

“Do you want onion soup first or chicken noodles? I won’t put carrots on it.”

“Alfred can be super gross when he is into about making our bad food decisions look more healthy, don’t you think?” 

“Preach.” 

Dick rested his red face on his kind-of-pink hands, blinking sleepily at Jason. He looked exhausted, and sick, and like someone who just needed a hug and a bath. Luckily for him, Jason could provide all of these things — maybe even without a grimace to pair with them. And with the additional of very unhealthy, very frozen comfort food. 

“Did you miss me when I was gone?” he asked, sounding small. He wasn’t really talking about the job or the grocery shop. 

(Probably). 

Everything in Jason’s life was kind of a mess. 

“I did, Jay.” Dick answered, smiling. “I really did.” 

Uh. 

Who could have known. 

“Let’s start with the onion,” he said, kind of bluntly. “I think that it’s disgusting and I want to get it over with.” 

“I like it.”

“Yeah, no shit. Just shut up and eat your soup.” 

“You didn’t even make anything yet!” 

“Then pick only the former and be quiet.” 

“You suck”, Dick rolled his eyes at him, “I’m going to roll over all your stuff. Hope you get really sick.” 

“Whatever. You’re the one who is going to look after me — and let me tell you, this is  _ not  _ fun at all.” 

They nodded, seriously. Taking care of someone was no joke. 

“Hey, Jay?” 

“What.” 

“Thanks.” 

“For what?” 

Dick’s face was still really red. It was kind of ugly and maybe weird. “Everything”, he said, then. “Just everything. I’m glad you’re alive.” 

Jason, god bless his soul, thought him lovely. Sick, annoying, soon to reek of onions — but lovely all the same. 


End file.
